My half-brother is now my brother

 We had never had times like this, 

I'm panting to keep up with him on this 

strenuous bike ride through the Park, stopping en route to listen to 

West African music, the party goers likely preparing for the upcoming France-Senegal match

There was a lake off to the side, we passed by the restaurant and circled back

To find it together, a generous nod to our time in Senegal, decades apart.

This man is no longer my little brother, the 13 year old that lost his father

Too young, sobbing in the pews of the Unitarian Church in Chicago.

Only yesterday, I opened his front door to gasp at the sublime interior, filled with antiques

The product of an artist's eye, the work of this half-brother, who is now a full

Fledged brother, no longer the "kid" who worried about losing his siblings when

The patriarch passed on so young.

Let us not pass up any more opportunities to be together, to ride and to walk together

In spite of challenges that inspire deep respect and admiration.

We had never had times like this, but we will have them again.